


Where all my demons hide

by alan713ch



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Major Canon Deviation, Major character death - Freeform, alternate episode 1x01, other characters appear but they are not important, this happened on a whim, werewolf Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alan713ch/pseuds/alan713ch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had all started Sunday night, when he had hijacked his dad’s radio again and heard the words four one nine and he excitedly went to pick up Scott. He almost got whacked in the head with a baseball bat, but they were going to see a dead body so it was worth it.</p>
<p>Almost being caught by his dad - and Scott sacrificing for the two of them had been worth it.</p>
<p>Being bitten by a rabid dog? Not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where all my demons hide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pocketmumbles (livelikejack)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livelikejack/gifts).



Stiles just sat there, trying to make sense of what was happening. Of what had just happened.

“Scott…?”

It had all started Sunday night, when he had hijacked his dad’s radio again and heard the words four one nine and he excitedly went to pick up Scott. He almost got whacked in the head with a baseball bat, but they were going to see a dead body so it was worth it.

Almost being caught by his dad - and Scott sacrificing for the two of them had been worth it.

Being bitten by a rabid dog? Not so much.

When he told Scott Monday morning, his best friend was jaded. Stiles apologized for the certain scolding Mama McCall had given Scott - he’d been in the receiving end enough times to be afraid of them - and tried to ignore the hurt feeling when Scott was not as excited as he was for the nine by nine inches piece of gauze on his torso.

He also tried to ignore the bubbling jealousy he felt when Scott set his eyes on the new girl because _Scott was his and you have no right and who do you think you are and what brought you here and_ for a moment Scott looked at him, concerned. Apparently he had started growling.

No, it was fine. He was happy that Scott had finally met someone, even if he was too much of a coward to approach the girl before Lydia and Jackson did. He had had the perfect opening, when the girl politely asked him if he had an extra pen, but of course he didn’t do anything else.

He’d deal with his moping after the lacrosse tryouts.

And boy, those were beautiful tryouts. Suddenly he could see the ball, he could hear everyone moving, and he was able to score past Scott. Even if he was sure Scott had felt a bit humiliated by the way Coach had forced him to keep as a morality boost for the rest of the team.

Lydia approached him after the tryouts, and told him to come to his party. He was in heaven.

But then he saw Scott dejected, and told Lydia that he was bringing him. _Sure, he can be your plus one - it’s not like you’re ever apart, is it?_

For the first time since like, ever, Stiles spent his whole afternoon in the veterinary clinic next to Scott. If Scott was not busy, he would talk to him, and touch him, and punch him lightly in the arm, trying to keep him upbeat. If Deaton - and fuck the way he looked at him, like he was one of his patients - had Scott actually _working_ \- who the fuck works at a job anyways? - he would wander around the store, reorganizing the cabinets, alphabetizing the medicine, pacing between the small fence in the front desk area and the whole back where all the animals were kept.

He made a note to recheck his adderall dose, he was getting too distracted again.

The kitties bitched at him when he went to help Scott feed them. Ungrateful felines.

They left early since after all two heads can work faster than one, and Stiles spent the night at the McCall’s, waiting out the storm.

The following morning the new girl - Allison - told Lydia that she’d hit a dog on her way home, and that had resulted in her car privileges being revoked. Ergo, she was not going to the party.

Scott looked so sad Stiles wanted to rip someone’s throat out, and that triggered a panic attack because w _ho wants to rip someone’s throat out with their teeth?_

He made another mental note to check if early symptoms of frontotemporal dementia include bouts of violence. He couldn’t remember if his mom had had them.

Stiles and Scott spend the rest of the week worrying about his apparent incapability of focusing on anything when Scott was not around (he had had dinner with his dad and could not even remember what they were talking about, trying to distinguish the flavors in the tofu salad that he had made for the both of them and wondering how on Earth he thought that was healthy) and trying to see why he was more prone to violence (having already kicked Jackson’s ass when he had not so subtly tried to injure Scott and Danny had had to whack him with one of the sticks) and suddenly it was Friday and Stiles begged and cajoled and cried and begged again to Scott to come to the party with him because somehow Scott was the only one that seem to keep whatever it was - the ADHD? the FTD? Something _worse_? - in check and he couldn’t pass the opportunity of having being invited to one of Lydia Martin’s parties.

Scott agreed, shrugging it. Like he had done Sunday, when he didn’t want to go and find a dead body.

And the party, the party was amazing. People were actually talking to _him_ , because he’d managed to defeat Jackson at tryouts, and apparently someone heard Coach say something about shuffling the positions and Greenberg said that Coach usually shuffled positions when he was looking into new captains and _really_? _Him_?

He even saw the way Lydia saw him when she was making out with Jackson. He was just dancing with Harley.

The full moon was shining above him. It made his skin itch.

Something from dinner hadn’t agreed with him - he suddenly felt queasy, and the world started spinning. Scott was suddenly there - like he’d always been, when his mom had died, when his father had taken up the bottle, when he’d been diagnosed with ADHD. He followed him into the bathroom upstairs, his back hurting him, his fingers aching like iron swords were coming out of them, his mouth slacking and his fangs growing out, ready to hunt, to rip, to tear.

To kill.

“Stiles? Stiles - are you OK? Stiles?”

The wolf saw his prey and went for it. The boy tried to defend himself - punching and swinging his arms and even headbutting him but the wolf was hungry and swift and he could hear the howl of his alpha egging him to taste the blood, to feel the power, to prove himself to be part of the pack and so he did, biting and scratching and tearing and eating and drinking the boy in front of him, until his friend's heartbeat slowed down to a steady, weak rhythm lacking blood to pump.

That’s when Stiles realized he had been the wolf, and he had just mauled Scott.

“Scott…?”

The boy just looked at him, like he was falling asleep, consciousness blinking in and out of him.

“Scott? What’s going on? Scott, what… What did I do?”

“Stiles… Stiles, are you OK?”

It was so Scott to ask him if he was OK when he was dying. But no, Scott couldn’t be dying, Stiles needed Scott, he was his buddy, his best friend, his brother, his compass, he couldn’t lose him.

“Scott, Scottie - please, help! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!”

The door opened and a not so sober Lydia and a clearly drunk Jackson walked in, having heard him cry for help. Jackson’s jaw fell to the floor and Stiles tried to wonder how he looked, on his knees, cradling Scott, blood coming out of his mouth as it was flowing freely from his best friend’s body, the wounds he had caused him.

Lydia screamed.

Stiles was sure her scream was heard all over town. He had had to drop Scott to cover his ears before they’d bleed out.

But when she stopped, only silence could be heard. Stiles would’ve cracked a joke about hearing a pin fall on the floor if it weren’t because he couldn’t hear Scott’s heartbeat anymore.

“Scott? Scottie? No, no, please, Scottie, don’t die - Scott! SCOTT!”

But he was gone.

Suddenly another sound could be heard. It was a symphony, an aria, a song telling him to go home, to go to the one who understood him, who provided for him, who would take him into the den and take care of him. That he needed to get out of there as soon as possible, no matter how many had to die in his wake.

It was a _howl_. _His alpha’s howl._

And Stiles felt the fangs extend and the nails grow and his ears engorge and he could see the fear in Lydia and Jackson’s face.

And it was the last thing their faces showed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I was supposed to write my submission to the Sciles reversebang, then I had a slight meta comment and then someone (cough cough) had to go and tempt me to write a fic about it. 
> 
> This is basically my version of what would've happened had Stiles been the bitten one instead of Scott. And as much as I love those two, I do not believe Stiles would've had the strength of mind to resist Peter, particularly since it approaches him from the point of view of power.


End file.
